Red
by RogueInk
Summary: Picks up exactly where the 1st movie leaves off and will end where the 2nd film begins. Hellboy 1.5, if you will. Though Rasputin & his monsters have been defeated, something dark has followed Liz back from the other side.
1. Chapter 1

He felt her gently release from the kiss and opened his eyes to look at her again, not willing yet to release her from his arms. She looked at him with a gentle-half smile on her lips and then rested her head against his chest; she took a deep breath. The blue flames that had been simmering flicked out as she put her weight against him. She was exhausted. She didn't need to tell him. He carefully pulled the sheath Rasputin had covered her with around her shoulders and lifted her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. He looked around expecting to see Myers sulking nearby, but the cavern was empty. He must have decided to wait outside. Hellboy couldn't help feeling smug about it, a childish male pride that Myers saw her kiss him seeped into his thoughts. But the feeling only lasted long enough to let what really happened sink in: Liz had kissed him. _Liz_. He had never dared to hope that any woman would ever look on him as anything less than a monster, and here in his arms was the only girl he'd ever known, ever loved. Without any fear, or hesitation, she had kissed him as though he was an ordinary man. He didn't think he could love her more, but for that he did. She wasn't completely asleep. A warm, pale hand slid up out of the sheath and around the back of his neck.

"Let's go home." She whispered.

* * *

Myers was leaning against the military cargo truck waiting on the gravel road just outside the cemetery. Several FBI agents waited as well, looks of surprise coming over their faces as they saw Hellboy approach bloodied, covered in monster entrails and cradling Liz in his arms.

"Ready?" Myers raised an eyebrow.

"If you think I'm climbing back into that crate, you've got another thing coming, Myers." He stated as he marched past him.

Myers nodded in agreement and fell in beside, and just a little behind, him. "She alright?"

"She's fine." He saw the other agents giving them sideways looks. The sheath had slid down to reveal her bare shoulder. Myers moved to adjust it.

"Must've been some kiss..." A dark haired agent mumbled under his breath.

Hellboy stopped in his tracks and turned.

"You."

The agent and Myers gave Red stunned, guilty looks. He kept his eyes on the other agent.

"Give me your sweater." Hellboy commanded.

The agent chuffed in disbelief. "You're kidding right?"

"What do you think?" Red lowered his voice. He wanted to slug this chump but stayed put; he didn't want to wake Liz.

"Do what he says." Tom Manning ordered, leaning out the driver's side of the truck. "And hurry up about it, Goreman."

Hellboy smirked. The agent looked uncertainly between Manning and Red, then pulled the black ribbed sweater over his head. He crossed his bare arms over his chest; the thin black tank he wore underneath did nothing to protect him from the winter cold.

"Gonna need your pants too there Goreman." Red added. Goreman glowered at him as he undid his belt and removed the black cargo's as well. Red and Yellow smiley-face boxers stood out against the blue-white canvas of the approaching winter dawn. "Myers, grab those for me, will ya?" Hellboy headed for the passenger side of the truck. Manning opened the door for him and he carefully climbed inside; Liz stirred but did not wake. Myer's handed the clothes to Red through the truck window.

"We'll rendezvous at the landing strip and debrief on the plane." Manning instructed Myers.

"I'm not riding with you?" He asked.

"Not unless you want to jump in the back." Manning replied.

"Fair enough. See you there." He stepped back from the truck.

Manning put his foot down and the truck lurched forward, snow and gravel groaned under the tires. The sky and snow covered earth were quiet blue with early morning sunlight. Liz shivered and snuggled closer to him for heat. Red rolled up the truck window and turned the heating vents on full. He adjusted the sheath back up to her chin and gently rubbed her back and shoulders with his smaller hand. He could feel her hand on his ribs, hugging herself against him. He should have been exhausted too, but with Liz so close to him, with Liz wanting to be close to him, he felt as though energy flowed through every part of him. He felt like he could do anything.

"How exactly did the young lady, uh, lose her clothing if you don't mind me asking?" Manning kept his eyes on the road.

"If you're implying that I-" Red was insulted at the insinuation and immediately defensive.

"It's a legitimate question Hellboy. She had clothes on the last time I saw her." Manning replied authoritatively.

Hellboy took a moment to respond. "I'm not sure exactly. We were all knocked out for a little while. When I came to Ole Raspy had her on a table wearing nothing but this. He must've needed her to be naked for the ritual to work..."

"Ritual?"

"I don't really want to talk about it right now Manning. Let's save it for the debriefing."

"Alright." Manning glanced at him, eyeing his ragged horns and his bloodied chest. Then looked to the black special forces fatigues that sat on the seat between them. "You going to tell me why I helped you strip that agent of more than just his dignity? His clothes will never fit you, you know."

"They're not for me, they're for Liz, smart guy." She was breathing steady and slow, in a deep slumber now.

"Uh Hellboy, there'll be extra fatigues on the plane."

"Really?" Red kept his eyes on the road, his expression nonchalant. "I didn't realize."

"Yeah, sure."


	2. Chapter 2

Hellboy carried Liz to the rear section of the plane, where Manning assured him no other agents aside from the doctor would enter. It was a small passenger cabin with padded seats in dense rows filling the space, three seats on each side of the centre aisle. He laid her down across three seats, a makeshift cot. The bitter chill of the Russian winter had saturated the walls of the plane, and frost made delicate crystal patterns on the insides of the windows. Liz's bare foot touched the icy wall of the cabin and she let out a drowsy gasp, pulling her foot closer to her body. HB placed his large stone hand over both her feet, which had retreated under the silky cover she still wore, though he knew it could do little warm her. With his human hand he pushed a wayward strand of hair off her face.

"Hey." His fingers lingered on the side of her face for a moment. As she opened her eyes, he pulled his hand away, feeling suddenly shy.

"Hi." Just a hint of her crooked smile. Her voice was a dry whisper. "Cold in here." She shivered and curled her limbs up closer to herself, her feet slipped out from under his stone hand.

"Here." He hurriedly placed Goreman's sweater and pants on the armrest near her head. He felt clumsy and awkward moving in such tight quarters, but that didn't explain the anxious, curling feeling in his stomach. "They'll probably be too big, but it's better than nothing." As he said it, he became acutely aware of the reality that under the thin layer of fabric that covered her, she was in fact wearing nothing. He blushed then, and for the first time he felt glad for the color of his skin. One porcelain hand slipped out from under the sheath and touched the ribbed sweater by her head.

"Thanks."

"And a doctor will be in to check on you soon. Uh, well, I've got a briefing to get to." He tried to sound nonchalant and knew he was failing miserably. As he backed up, an armrest caught him behind the knee and he stumbled. "So, take it easy and uh put those on, I'll be back in a bit." He ducked out of the cabin, clicked the sliding door shut. He let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, then turned and gasped it back in as he nearly tripped over Myers, who consequently spilled the scalding hot contents of two coffee cups he'd been carrying down Hellboy's chest.

"Aw, shit. Sorry." Myers kept his voice hushed, but his apology was sincere.

He breathed out again through clenched teeth. "It's alright." Hellboy responded dryly. "This shirt's ruined anyways." He pulled the tattered black T-shirt over his head, wiped his chest with it and tossed it onto the stainless steel counter lining the right side of what appeared to be a kitchen area. The gashes on his torso stung where the coffee had landed, but the pain was minor, more annoying than anything else. He looked at the now-empty coffee cups in Myers hands. "It was a nice thought, boy scout, but she's getting dressed right now. I'll let her know you dropped by." In Myers presence, he felt grounded and cool again. More like himself than just moments earlier when he and Liz had been alone. He folded his arms across his chest, blocking the doorway effectively with his body, and looked down at Myers coolly.

"These were for you. Both cups." Myers turned to the percolator that sat on the far corner of the counter, placing the plastic mugs on the counter next to the remnants of Red's shirt.

"Oh."

Myers began to spoon whitener and brown sugar into one of the mugs.

"I take mine-"

"-Black. I know, same as Liz. She told me. 'She awake?" He refilled the mugs and handed one to Red, kept the milkier one for himself.

"Yeah." They sipped from their mugs in silence for a moment. Somewhere, the plane's engines stuttered against the cold and then grumbled to life. Red leaned back against the cabinets on the opposite side of the kitchen nook. "So. Just couldn't wait to tell your boyfriends all the juicy details huh?"

"What?" Myers was genuinely confused.

"How did that Goreman grunt know about the kiss?" Red's voice was hard, there was an edge of anger in it. As much as part of him didn't regret Myers being witness to it, he didn't want that moment treated lightly. It was private.

"It was necessary-"

"Necessary?"

"Yes." Myers voice rose just a little, but he caught himself. "Listen. When I came out from the tomb, there was a whole mob of agents waiting there; Manning had them eager to go in with guns blazing. When I came out of there alone there were a lot of questions about you and Liz, your whereabouts." He swallowed, he face serious with regret. "I tried to say that you were on your way, buy you some time, but they were determined to either send soldiers or medical personnel in their after you. I'm a lousy liar, I couldn't think of something fast enough. So I told them the truth."

Hellboy took a slow slip of his coffee and then shook his head. "And you're the guy Pops handpicked to keep me and Abe under wraps, right?"

Myers chuckled. "Yeah, I'm still not sure why that was." The plane lurched forward, beginning to taxi down the runway, as the doctor entered. He looked young for a doctor; his wide eyes looked stunned as he gazed at Hellboy.

"Hey Doogie, is there a first aid kit on this plane?" Red took another long drink from his mug.

The kid-doctor looked at Hellboy with a confused look on his face. "My name's Jordans, sir."

Hellboy chuckled and glanced at Myers. Myers looked at him with an eyebrow raised, equally bewildered. "Aw, come on. Doogie? Doogie Howser?" The doctor's eyes showed no sign of recognition. Hellboy let out a disappointed sigh, "Kids."

The young doctor reached up and opened the overhead bin next to Hellboy's head, pulled a red box out. With medical equipment in hand, Jordan became focused. He placed the first aid kit on the counter, opened it, then turned and visually surveyed Hellboy's battered physique. He raised his eyes to meet Hellboy's.

"A few of those are going to need to be sutured. Anything broken?"

Hellboy shook his head dismissively. "Nah, just a few bruised ribs. And these," he touched his finger to a wound that was still oozing blood, "these'll be closed before you thread your needle. I'll clean it up myself."

Jordans frowned, but didn't press it. "What about those?" Jordans motioned up at the jagged stumps of horns left on Hellboy's head.

"They're fine." Hellboy's voice was hard, his eyes on his coffee mug.

"They look painful." There was genuine concern in the doctor's voice as he took a step towards Hellboy."

"I said they're fine." He turned his head now, his eyes blazing at the doctor. Jordans nearly stumbled as he retreated backwards, away from Red's glare. Hellboy lowered his eyes and voice. "I think the real reason you're here is through there." He motioned towards the rear cabin.

"What's Ms. Sherman's status?" Jordans pulled a clip board out from under his arm and clicked the end of his pen, regaining his composure. "Can you give me any details about her recent ordeal? The information I have is sketchy at best."

"Besides being exhausted, she seems ok." Hellboy stepped forward and started looking through the contents of the first aid kit. Around them, the sound of the engines prepping for takeoff grew to a dull roar.

"Exhausted?"

"She had nice long trip across the river Stix and back, Doc."

A tinny voice rattled out of the speakers mounted high on the convex walls. "Ready for dust-off. Better take a seat boys and girls."

The doctor didn't register the captain's announcement. He was stunned. "R-really? How long was she...gone for?" Jordans began making notes on his paper. Hellboy took peroxide, a roll of medical tape and a few pads of gauze out of the first aid kit before snapping the lid back in place and stowing it back in its place. He stepped up to the door of the rear passenger cabin.

"Hard to say. 10 minutes? 30 minutes?" He looked at Myers for an indication he wasn't too far off. Myers stared down at his coffee.

"18 minutes." Myers corrected and didn't look up. The young doctor's eyes bulged.

"18 minutes? How was she revived? Has she regained consciousness at all?"

Hellboy rapped gently on the sliding door. "Liz? You dressed? Doc's here."

"I'm decent." She replied, her voice sounded far away. Just the sound of her voice made his heart stop for a moment and he hesistated.

The astounded doctor pushed passed Hellboy, slid the door open and stepped inside. Myers quickly ducked inside next and Hellboy, cradling his first-aid supplies against his chest, turned sideways, crouched and stepped awkwardly through last. The plane had begun to charge the runway, the cabin swayed and shuddered. The nose of the plane lifted off the ground, knocking Hellboy off balance. He stumbled into the nearest seat, landing next to Myers who already had his seatbelt done up. He searched futilely for his own belt, but the plane was already lifting off into the air, and then suddenly the commotion of the runway was far below them and fading away. He turned stiffly in his chair to look over his shoulder and saw Liz sitting in the same row of seats he had lain her down in, talking quietly with Jordans. The doctor was asking her questions in quick succession, giving Liz only time to answer with a quick nod or shake of the head and the occasional whispered detail.

It had unnerved him, the young doctor's shocked reaction upon hearing about Liz's 'death', and the intensity with which he questioned her now. "Why shouldn't he be shocked?" thought Hellboy. "It should be impossible for any human being to be revived after more than a few minutes without significant damage to the nervous system. " He couldn't believe it hadn't occurred to him until now. Why hadn't he rushed her out the tombs as fast as his legs could carry him? Why didn't he immediately call for a medic when they reached the team on the surface? But he hadn't been in his right mind, wasn't thinking clearly. He'd been so unprepared. He'd developed a skill for necromancy over the years, but nothing he'd studied could account for the power that had hummed through him, the knowledge that propelled him when he saw Liz's body lying lifeless on the ground. The ragged stumps on his forehead began to ache at the memory. In the moments before he'd renounced his birthright, when the mantle of his intended creation was upon him, the doors of the world from which he came (his place of origin) had been open to his mind. It was as though a curtain had been drawn back, revealing to him all the things he would have always known had he not been living in this world among mankind. For a moment that knowledge, and the overwhelming power that came with it, was too much to resist. But then he heard Myer's call out and his father's voice in his mind, bringing with it the remembrance of his true education. His real identity. And why he had to defy destiny and forge ahead into a path which had not been cleared by prophecy or the alignment of the stars. And he knew he could win, easily. He knew he could bring Liz back; that he held more influence with the beings on the other side in the pinkie finger of his human-sized hand than Rasputin could amass in a hundred more lifetimes. He knew the afterlife didn't want the soul of Liz Sherman, not yet. They had no interest in souls forced over to them by magic. He could call her back. The veil in his mind began to slip after he'd returned from destroying the beast, the knowledge of the other world seemed to be ebbing away as the monster twitched and grew cold and still. Like a dream, fully realized, that slips away from the waking mind, leaving only broken nonsensical fragments, the education of his heritage was slipping away, the conduit destroyed, and he clung to the only piece of it that mattered until he reached her. And once he'd called her back, the moment her breath returned, that too was gone. He was left feeling smaller, more hollow than he was before without it. The surety of the knowledge and power which had surged through him had assuaged him that Liz would be restored fully. He never considered any other outcome. The sun would rise. Snow would fall in Moscow. Liz would live.

She felt him staring, and her eyes left the doctors face to glance at him. He awkwardly turned back around in his seat. The speaker overhead crackled to life again.

"Alrighty. The captain has switched off the seatbelt sign, but please keep your seatbelts fastened whenever you are seated for the duration of the flight. Our crew will be around shortly to serve tea and biscuits and lap dances upon request. We hope you have a pleasant flight." The pilot deadpanned. Myers chuckled and shook his head. The speaker crackled again.

"I wanna see everybody who went into the tombs in main cargo in 15 minutes. Don't drag your feet. I've had one helluva night." Manning's low, humourless voice stated.

Hellboy smirked, betting that in the cockpit right now the captain was getting a dressing down for making jokes on the government's watch, even if it was to lighten the mood a bit. Several operatives had lost their lives in the day's events. Manning would be accountable to someone for each of those lives.

Hellboy stole another look over his shoulder at Liz and the doctor. They were still intensely combing over the details of her near death experience. Red was nervous. An irrational fear was growing inside him. The more time passed between the present and that kiss, the more it seemed the kiss could be reasoned away, imagined away, forgotten. The longer he had to wait to be near her, to see if now, fully conscious and aware, she had really meant it, the less sure he became that she had. He was even beginning to dread when the doctor would stop talking, and soon he would have to face her and accept whatever she was now feeling. At this moment there was nothing to sully the memory of kissing her, of her kissing him back. But in another moment, she could make it nothing but a bittersweet memory. Seven feet tall, fire proof, and weighing in at over 350 pounds of solid muscle, Hellboy had never felt more fragile.

Myer's followed his gaze. "Why don't we head over to main cargo, no sense keeping Manning waiting. He sounds like he doesn't have much in the way of patience this morning."

It was enough to break into his ruminating thoughts.

"Sure. I bet he misses me by now."


	3. Chapter 3

The briefing seemed to go on forever. Everyone, including Manning, was exhausted, having been up all the previous night hunting Rasputin and his monsters. And though Dr. Jordans joined the meeting about 10 minutes after it had begun, Liz was nowhere to be seen. Insecure as a 13 year old boy, Hellboy wondered if she was avoiding him. His eyes involuntarily went to the door near the rear of the main cargo hull every few minutes, hoping she would walk through it. Manning was by the book, carefully connecting the officers stories and putting together the pieces of the timeline until it was airtight, including the unpleasant business of thoroughly discussing the details of how several agents had lost their lives and the uncomfortable parts that involved Myers and Hellboy himself recounting how the whole mission ended with the revival of one Liz Sherman. Except when Liz's name was mentioned, Jordans did not look up from his clipboard. The doctor remained pre-occupied with his notes throughout the briefing, notes Hellboy felt sure were taken during his interview with Liz.

As soon as all the details of the operation had been wrung out from each agent, and the meeting was adjourned, Jordans stood and requested a private audience with Manning. Manning nodded grimly. This unnerved Hellboy greatly. He trusted his gut like he trusted the strength in his stone fist, and they had both won him a lot of fights. He followed Manning and Jordans as they began to head to the rear entrance of the main cargo hull, their heads close together, Jordans was talking low and fast. Hellboy lengthened his stride and was preparing to demand that he be included in this "private audience" when Manning suddenly looked up.

"I agree. Hell-" Manning turned and let out a stunned "Oh!" to find the red demon nearly standing on top of him. "Hellboy, I think you should hear what this doctor has to say. You may be our best hope to avoid a potentially dangerous situation."

Hellboy was surprised by Manning's eagerness to include him. Saving him from Cronin had apparently swayed Tom's opinion of the Red Monkey somewhat. He took a moment to swallow his prepared demands. "It's about Liz, isn't it?"

The young doctor met his eyes. "Walk with us."

They passed through rear door of the main cargo hull, leaving behind weary agents who were cleaning up and stowing away their gear, strapping themselves into their seats, getting set to head to their homes as soon as the plane hit the tarmac even though they still had at least 6 hours of flight time left. The mid section of the plane, through which they now passed, was carefully and precisely packed with chests, boxes and bags of gear. They walked through the small pathway left in the middle heading back towards the kitchen and passenger area, where Red last saw her. The doctor paused here and so did Manning and HB.

"Now, I don't want to cause any undue worry, but its been my experience in such cases involved paranormal resuscitation, there are adverse side affects to the patient. " The doctor began, choosing his words carefully.

Hellboy felt fear like lead drop in stomach. "Side effects? What - like brain damage?"

The doctor shook his head. "In normal medical circumstances, yes, there would be concerns about damage to the central nervous system, due to lack of oxygen which causes the brain to deteriorate. But with paranormal resuscitations, there are usually few physical side effects, or at least, predictable physical side effects. In these cases, the patient has often been under the influence of some curse or incantation, and their "death" is by supernatural causes." The doctor became more animated as he explained. "At the BPRD labs, we found in our studies that during some supernaturally induced deaths, though the body is by all accounts non-functioning, there is an electro-magnetic anomaly surrounding the corpse which somehow preserves it from natural deterioration."

The look of scepticism on Manning's face was nearly comical. "And which types of 'supernaturally induced deaths' are these, doctor?"

The kid did not seem to notice his tone. "The non-binding vituperation or conditional incantation type." He answered directly.

"Meaning?"

"The imposed death state is intended to be revocable."

"So, Raspy never intended her to stay dead?" Red clarified.

"Did you not say in the briefing that he told you to 'claim your birth right' so that you could retrieve her soul?" The doctor replied, quoting his own testimony at him. "Rasputin was being honest with you in that right. The conjuration he used must have been invoked with the intention of Liz Sherman's soul being able to return to her body at some point, or she simply would not have been able to. We would have a corpse in that end of the plane, and not a passenger."

His words sent a chill down Hellboy's spine. Even to think of how close he'd been to losing her... He pushed the thought away. He felt a desperate need to see her again, to touch her, to confirm she was indeed still here. He tried to turn his focus back to the doctor.

"Ok, so what your saying is...Liz is perfectly fine?"

"Physically, the event has not harmed her. I check her vitals and she seems to be in perfect health." Jordans admitted.

Hellboy looked from Manning to the Doctor, seeing both of them wearing the same grim expression.

"So then, what's the problem?"

"The adverse side effects I mentioned earlier are not the result of physical harm. Though some manifest as psychosomatic symptoms, some patients suffer from severe psychological trauma or paranormal excruciations."

"From what now?"

"In some, chronic nightmares and night terrors that eventually lead to insanity, in others, demonic halluncinations, compulsively violent behaviours, self-mutilation..."

"And you think Liz could fall victim to these...symptoms?"

"It's difficult to predict. The BPRD has only had a handful of patients to study who have been revived under similar circumstances. "

"Ok, and how long do these symptoms usually last?"

The doctor paused. "Until the patient expires."

Hellbody felt his legs go numb.

"Hellboy," Manning stepped in, tried to get him to regain focus. "There are more lives at stake here than just Liz's."

Hellboy couldn't think. He looked at his superior officer with confusion.

"Liz's own telekinetic powers complicate the matter. There's no telling how-" Manning was interrupted by a siren piercing through their conversation. Red warning lights along the ceiling began to flash in unison. The speakers crackled to life.

"GODDAMMIT boys!" The pilot was enraged. "Which one of you fucktards is smoking in the bathroom?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note:** _Chapter updated Jan 25/11. I wrote this chapter quickly and posted it, without much proofing, so I had to come back and touch it up a bit. For those of you who already read it once, sorry, they're small changes that don't effect the plot, just the pacing. Thanks for the reviews so far. Chapter 5 will be ready very soon!_

* * *

Hellboy was running to the rear of the plane, heart hammering inside his chest. He slammed open the door that led to the kitchen and hit the sliding door to the passenger cabin so hard that the door came off its tracks. He could smell the smoke before it stung his eyes.

"Red!" She stood before him and at first all her could see were her eyes, terrified and pleading. She held her hands out in front of her, hands engulfed in blue-white flames. The seats to her right, where he'd last seen her sitting, were alight. Suddenly, the fire on her hands flared out red and angry. She desperately focussed herself on the rebellious flames. She locked her hands together and squeezed until she trembled with the effort. She lifted her eyes to Hellboy again, "I don't know why – I can't –"

Hellboy rushed to her. "I'm right here."

He clasped his hands around her own, feeling the white-hot heat pulsing between their palms. Her eyes were panicked.

"I was just resting, and suddenly I felt the heat, I thought it must be just a nightmare, it hadn't got away from me since..." The rush of her words gave way to a sharp intake of breath, nearly a gasp, and he felt the angry fire lashed outward from her hands again, like it was a feral animal trying to burst free of it's rope. She closed her eyes, her brows furrowed in concentration. The flames were licking up through Hellboy's stone fingers. He squeezed her hands tighter. Her chin began to tremble, whether in fear or frustration, he couldn't tell.

"Shhh – shhh. It's alright, it's gonna be alright. Focus Liz. Focus on your power."

She nodded and lowered her eyes to stare at their joined hands. He leaned in close, kept his voice calm.

"Focus on your strength. You have control."

"But I don't - Red, this feels ... something's _wrong_-" her eyes searched his, looking for answers. Her voice was uncertain, shaky. He knew she was right. He _feel _could that this fire was not hers. He knew, acutely knew, exactly how Liz's flames felt on his skin. This was something else. These flames felt unnatural, acidic against his skin.

"Then you take that feeling, that wrongness and you put it into my hands, okay? You put all that heat on me, alright? Don't let it get away from you and me."

She nodded and focussed again on their hands. He pulled her hands close to his chest and she pushed her palms against his skin just as another vicious blaze burst forth. Hellboy felt the force of it physically shove against him. She stepped back from him instinctively, seeing him falter, not wanting to endanger him. He refused to allow it. Planting his feet again, he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her toward him. The fire had again retreated to it's normal blue-white shade and she extended her palms to toward him, spreading her fingers across his skin, trying to spread the blaze out, weaken it. He flattened his hands over her own, wanting nothing in the world more than to take the fear out of her eyes.

Behind him, the Jordans and Manning rushed into the smoky cabin.

"The extinguisher! There!" He heard Manning order, but it sounded muffled, far away. There was only one thing in the world that existed to him right now.

Hellboy closed his eyes and focussed hard on the defiant flames that were pressing forth from Liz's fingers. He focussed on their wrongness, their aberrant energy and tried to push it back. Strangely, it seemed to respond to his push. The fire pulled back a little. Liz leaned in close to him, he brought the side of his jaw down to rest against her temple.

"That's it kid. You've got this."

Liz drew in a deep determined breath and continued to try to reign in the fire. Hellboy pressed her hands tight into his chest and they both felt the power in her hands begin to retreat. The world around them seemed to grow silent, though the fire alarm continued to sound and Jordans was messily putting out the flames with the extinguisher just a few feet from them. The flames pulsed quieter now, and they began to feel more and more like Liz's own. A small cautious smile spread on Liz's lips. She pulled her fingers back and formed her hands into fists, Hellboy instinctively kept his hands around hers. She squeezed her hands tight and snuffed out the last flickering flames.

They both let out a slow breath.

"Thank you." She whispered. No flames now. Just her fists pressing hard against him, his own hands keeping them there.

"For what?" He returned quietly and forced himself to keep breathing.

"For being fire-proof." And she smirked that little smirk at him that always made his stomach do a flip. Her deep brown eyes locked on his and his stomach flipped again.

_Good god_, he wanted to kiss her.


	5. Chapter 5

Wanted to. But couldn't.

Behind him, Hellboy heard the clumsy, hurried, black-booted footfalls of more special agents thundering toward the rear cabin. Liz broke eye contact to look past him, over his shoulder.

"Here comes the cavalry." She commented dryly. She let her hands fall out from under his and crossed her arms across her midsection.

"I feel safer already." He joked in return. It brought her eyes back to his.

"At ease boys, just a small accidental fire. We've got it under control. Go tell the captain would ya?" Manning instructed the agents as they arrived, guns drawn. He was patting out the smoldering seat cushions with his jacket.

Hellboy turned towards Manning and the doctor. "Your goons sure do take second-hand smoke seriously, Manning. I'd hate to see what would've happened if somebody had taken off their seatbelt during take-off."

"Grenades." He deadpanned, then shrugged, "Standard operating procedure." He chuffed a little. Hellboy couldn't help but chuckle a little himself. Twenty-four hours ago, Tom Manning would've have never condescended to joke with the big red ape. But a lot had happened since then. And saving a man's life, and him saving yours, is more than enough to allow a small improvement in rapport.

The agents, alternately wearing expressions of confusion and disappointment, even suspicion, holstered their weapons and began to leave the way they'd come.

"Miss Sherman, are you alright?" Jordans inquired, wiping fire-retardant foam from the front of his shirt.

Liz shrugged, but her face showed trepidation. "I think so. I feel ok, now." She rubbed her upper arms with her hands, like someone might if they were cold. But Red knew differently, she often did that when she felt unsettled ... or scared.

"Mind if I check?" The young doctor motioned to the row of seats behind her, near the very back of the cabin, and Liz followed his direction. Overhead, the fire alarm abruptly quit its monotonous shrieking.

Manning gave Hellboy a meaningful look. Hellboy took a step closer to him so they could talk out of earshot of Liz and the doctor.

"Are you as hesitant to call this a coincidence as I am?" Manning ventured.

Hellboy kept his eyes on Liz and said "I wouldn't even risk that consideration." He turned to Manning. "Liz has been learning to control her power, really control it. There's no way this was just a simple slip-up."

Manning raised an eyebrow at him. "Didn't she return to BPRD headquarters recently because she incinerated the looney-bin she was in?"

"Hey, it was a mental health facility. And no, it turns out she didn't. Rasputin induced that fire. It was part of his plan..." His shifted his eyes again to the rear of the cabin. "He knew she would make me vulnerable."

"Oh." Manning followed Hellboy's gaze. He was surprised by the beast's honesty. But, then it made him understand. She did make him vulnerable. Even Tom Manning, who knew the least of his secrets, could see that. "How did he do that? Induce the fire, I mean."

Hellboy frowned. "_That_ is a really good question."

Jordans and Liz stood and began making their way back over to Hellboy and Manning.

"Everything seems normal; I don't know how to account for it." The doctor stated.

"How do you feel, Ms. Sherman?" Manning asked.

She shrugged. "I'm alright. I'd be better if we weren't 30,000 feet up with over 5 hours of flight time ahead of us." She knew they were all thinking it. "I guess, no more naps for me, eh?"

"I'll get you a cup of coffee."

"No, I'm f-"

But the doctor had already turned and started towards the kitchen nook.

"-fine."

"Ms. Sherman, I'm going to recommend that Hellboy accompany you for the rest of the flight." Manning added.

"I said, I'm _fine_."

"I know, but I think you're right, about not risking falling asleep again. I'd feel a lot better about the safety of all those aboard this aircraft, if someone accompanied you. Given that Hellboy is ...impervious to the risks of ... being in close proximity with you..."

As he spoke, Liz shifted her eyes to Hellboy, questioning. It occurred to Hellboy that Liz didn't know the entire plane was aware of their recent personal interactions.

Liz opened her mouth to reply but was distracted by Myers making a noisy entrance, nearly colliding with Jordans exiting as he ducked inside the cabin. He had something tucked under one arm. Hellboy couldn't make out what it was. A slight haze of smoke still lingered in the air. Myers coughed as he surveyed the room, and his eyes quickly found the scorched remains of Liz's seat. He looked over at her with alarm.

"Are you alright?" He said with concern, walking over.

_A little too concerned there, Boy Scout._

"Yes." She said firmly. "I'm fine."

"Here, I brought these for you." Myers handed her a small pile of black clothing, neatly folded. "I thought you might like something that fits you-"

Hellboy was unimpressed.

"-and that doesn't smell like gun powder and after shave."

Hellboy was glaring.

"Thank you, John." Her voice and smile were sincere. She headed towards the bathroom at the rear of the cabin.

"Yes," Hellboy agreed, but not so warmly, "_very_ considerate of you."

Jonathon Myers pretended not hear him. He turned to his superior officer instead.

"It's a bit strange, don't you think, sir?"

Manning feigned ignorance. "What is, Myers?"

The lack of recognition surprised him. "Well," he glanced cautiously to Hellboy and then back to Manning again, "Liz having an 'accident' so soon after facing death?"

Manning made a show of pretending to think about it. "Oh, I don't think so. It seems reasonable that after her ordeal, and given the exhaustion she reported to the doctor, she might struggle to maintain control of her ability. What do you think, Hellboy?"

Hellboy couldn't resist. "Seems like a case of _**burnout**_ to me." The pun almost made Manning lose his composure.

"Very funny." Myers was trying his best to be taken seriously. "This was a really dangerous situation. I mean, what if the fire resulted in a loss of cabin pressure? What if the fire had spread and gotten to some of the ammunition cases? Or this aircraft's fuel tanks? Don't you think it's -"

Hellboy could hear the shuffling sounds of Liz changing in the bathroom. As he heard the latch unlock, he abruptly cut Myers off. "_Zip it_, Myers. We're well aware of what _could_ happen. You wanna help? Then, shut up. Last thing she needs is to panicking about death and destruction at her hands. She's got it _under control_."

Myers looked like he wanted to argue with him, but Liz was out of the bathroom now and walking over to them.

As much as Hellboy didn't like that Myers had got her the fresh fatigues before he'd had the chance, he couldn't help but admire how much better these smaller ones looked on her. They outlined her slender frame, hugged just slightly around the curves of her hips and her torso. Sometimes it astounded him, though he knew every line and curve of her, had spent countless hours just looking at her picture, she was still achingly beautiful to him.

"Better?" Myers asked.

"Better. Thanks," and handed him the old fatigues.

"Oh. " He wasn't expecting laundry duty. "I'll just bring these back-" Myers slowly began to turn.

Hellboy glared a warning at Myers.

"-to Agent Goreman then. He must be _freezing_." And started walking away. It seemed to Hellboy, he was almost skipping as he left the cabin.

Liz turned to Manning and Hellboy. "Who is Agent Goreman?" With his eyes, Manning directed her scrutiny in Hellboy's direction, who was nonchalantly studying the ceiling. "HB?" There was a warning tone in her voice.

"Well, looks like things are under control here. And I've got a report to write up. I'll check in on you two later." Manning gave Hellboy a slap on the back and quickly excused himself from the conversation. Liz watched Manning until he was out of sight, then turned back to Hellboy.

"Red? Why was I wearing Agent Goreman's clothes?"

"Well, you were naked."

"Yeah. And how did I get Agent Goreman's clothes?"

"He had an extra set in his pack."

"Nope."

"He offered them?"

"Uh-uh."

"It was a rather chivalrous guesture-"

"Try again."

"Manning ordered him to-"

She pursed her lips.

Hellboy's shoulders slumped in defeat, "I ordered him to."

Liz let out an aggravated groan. "Red! Why would you do that?"

"It was freezing cold out! You had nothing on but that – that sheet thing-"

"Oh, so you were protecting my modesty by forcing another agent out of his clothing? Come on, Red-"

"He made a smartass comment when I walked out of the tunnel with you wearing next to nothing. Manning backed me up," he added like a kid shifting blame onto someone else.

She put a hand on his forearm. "I know you want to look after me, but I don't want everyone in the BPRD knowing about... us." Their eyes met. He could hardly believe she was saying it. Relief washed over him: _she isn't regretting it._ "When you do stuff like that, it's just a big flashing neon sign that something's going on. I'd rather keep it between you and me for now. You know?"

Hellboy bit his lip.

"What?"

He groaned in his throat, dreading saying it.

"_What_?"

"Everyone knows." He winced.

"Come on." Liz was sceptical. "Myers knows. That's hardly 'everyone'."

"Oh, it is if you've got a mouth as big as he does."

"WHAT?"

Jordans was in the doorway holding a cup of coffee in his hand. "Uh, is this a bad time?"

"YES." Hellboy and Liz answered in unison.

Jordans nodded and retreated into the kitchen.

Liz paced away from Hellboy. "Wha- why? Why would he do that? John's not the vengeful type. Is he? What did he tell them?"

"Well, basically, he left while you and I were... and when he got out of the tombs everyone was waiting and asked why weren't with him so... he told them."

"Oh god," Liz covered her face with her hands. "How humiliating..."

"Humiliating?"

_Ouch_.

"You know what I mean."

"Sure." Even though he wasn't sure that he did. But he was willing to hazard a guess. "I wouldn't want it shouted from the rooftops either," which was a total lie.

"Stop it." She stopped pacing and stared at him

"Stop what?"

"Letting your insecurities turn me into an asshole." She was walking over to him.

"I wasn't-"

"Yes, you were." She stopped in front of him. "'Oh, woah is me, I'm a big red demon and my girlfriend must be so embarrassed to be seen with me.'" She mocked.

"Hey." A small step brought him very close to her. "My voice sounds _nothing_ like that."

"I'm not going to babysit your ego, Red. I made my choice." She slid a hand down his left arm until her fingers found his. Her eyes wandered over his face. "I don't even know if it was a choice."

He leaned down and caught her mouth with his own. Her lips were so soft and so enticing. How come no one had ever told him kissing felt like _this_? He'd imagined kissing her in his mind countless times, and nothing in his imagination ever came close to the reality of her mouth pulling and pressing on his own. There was a squeezing pressure in his chest, like something clasped round his heart. It forced his arms around her, pulling her carefully against him. His right hand, always so effective, so useful to him in battle, now seemed awkward and clumsy. He tried to gently place the barrel-like wrist against her lower back and curl his stone fingers around the edge of her slender waist. Her hands slid up along his biceps, over the tops of his shoulders. Slipping her right arm around his neck, Liz pulled herself onto her toes and deepened the kiss. Her left hand moved lightly up the side of his neck and along his jaw, her fingers drawing trails through his beard and sending goose bumps across his skin. He tightened his arms around her, supporting her weight, his left hand sliding up between her shoulder blades until his fingers were lost in soft black hair.

There was no insecurity in him now. There was no questioning himself or calculating. There were no decisions. As long as she stayed in the circle of his arms, he would need to kiss her, need to feel her lips caressing and exploring his own, expressing feelings that could not spoken and tenderness that could not be communicated in any other way. He had always struggled with words, had wasted reams and reams of paper trying to write it to her. What a relief. He could just show her.

Eventually, the kiss softened into delicate pecks. Then Liz placed a gentle kiss on the end of his nose. He loosened his arms just enough to place her back on flat feet, leaned his forehead against hers and tried to just breathe.

"You know, if it'll help keep you awake, I'm perfectly willing to do that for next 5 hours of this trip."

"Hmm." Her fingers were playing with the hair on the back of his neck, sending what felt like little electric shocks down his spine. "Sounds like a great plan. Too bad _someone_ ripped the door apart, leaving us with very little privacy." She was teasing him, but it brought back to him the fear he'd felt when the smoke alarm had gone off.

His golden eyes became serious. "I would rip though steel, stone and Satan himself to get to you." His voice was husky with emotion.

She blushed and looked down, the way she always did when his defences sometimes slipped and she could see how truly he loved her. It sometimes was too much for her to handle. It had been in the past. She'd needed space from him, the way he would sometimes look at her, or the way he would say her name. She didn't know how to trust it. How could a girl, who'd never seen herself as anything but a freak, who'd taught herself to stay isolated from people to avoid strong emotions, who'd been told by doctors that if she loved someone she needed to stay away from them, how could that girl accept that someone else, especially someone who knew her so well, could love her? There was always part of her that doubted it, that somehow, in some way, Hellboy's heart was mistaken and his feelings would only disappoint him. She could never live up to them.

But that was before.

Liz couldn't recall much of her time "on the other side". Trying to grasp the memory was like grasping at fog. What was 18 minutes in the mortal world had felt like a year and a moment all at once to her. But the feeling of death, that seemed to still be sunk in her bones. She could recall that the other side was dark and it was cold. And she could feel that dark and that cold like it was alive and full of intent. It had felt as though something malicious was soaking into her, slowly, relentlessly invading.

And then, Red was there.

Not physically of course, but he was there. Everywhere. He felt like a dawn of warmth and strength and devotion washing over and around her, the timbres of his voice enveloped her and the dark shrank back from him. No, not shrank. It was overrun, dissolved and dispersed in the presence of him. For a moment, she was with him in a world not bound by physical laws or physical separation. And because of that, Liz had seen into his soul. She knew exactly how capable he was of seeing all of her, including her flaws, and loving her completely, every single part.

It wasn't then that she realized she loved him in return. No. He already had her heart completely by then, and that was why he found her on the other side so easily. Because she was, without knowing it, searching the dark for him too.

It wasn't until she saw him moments from his own death, that her heart would not be quelled any longer. Right in front of her eyes, the hellhounds attacked and began to overpower him. A devastating agony ran through her, and for the first time in life, she _wanted_ her fire. She wanted it desperately. All her life she had wondered why she had been cursed with fire. And when that moment came, she knew.

"I'm sorry." She whispered.

"What for?"

"For taking so long to realize-"

"Stop it." He echoed her words.

She couldn't help but smile a little. "Stop what?"

"Letting your ego turn me into a martyr. Don't you ever pity me. I would've have gladly gone on loving you, unrequitedly, all the rest of my days."

She blushed again, but didn't look away this time. She leaned up and kissed him tenderly. His lips, though she could sense a restrained urgency in them, gently responded.

Liz cleared her throat. "I'm gonna hold you to that, you know."

"To what?"

"The 'no pitying' thing."

"Good." And he seemed to puff himself up like a peacock a bit. "I don't need it."

"Oh, come on. " She laughed, "You can be such a baby sometimes!"

"Am not!"

She raised a pointed finger and jabbed it toward a recently closed wound on his chest.

"Ow!" He jumped and covered the wound with his hand.

She laughed again, "See? I didn't even touch you!" She turned and sat down, crossing her legs triumphantly.

"Oh." His lips pursed in frustration. He sat down next to her, finding it easy and natural to reach over and take her hand. "Well played Sherman. Well played."

They fell easily into coversation then, their anxiety now assuaged by the comforts of affection. And while Hellboy couldn't suppress a sense of freedom, of effortless ease with Liz, in the back of his mind, the doctor's grim warning remained and waited.

* * *

_**Author's note**: I know. It's mushy. Too mushy? Any constructive criticism greatly appreciated :) I promise, next chapter will be more plot, and less warm fuzzies._


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